Music Between the Walls
by Admiral T. DeVanto
Summary: Noisy neighbors can be pretty bothersome, but Mike grows to appreciate the soft music filtering in through his apartment walls, and he does not mind the disturbance.


He sat on his couch and stared at the magazine in his hand without even seeing the article. The words blended and shifted together to form meaningless sentences that he did not care to read. The comforting sense of relaxation with nothing needing to be accomplished lulled him into a rare moment of tranquility.

The magazine slipped from his fingers before falling onto his chest. With his feet propped up on the edge of the couch, he placed his one arm on the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he entertained the thought of a quick nap.

His thoughts were penetrated with the intrusive sound of noise. With a jolt, Mike sat up with a gasp. The thin walls did nothing to conceal the sound of loud instrumental music. Disoriented for a moment, Mike stared at the wall where the noise was coming from.

"Seriously?" he muttered. With a huff, he rolled over onto his side and tried to ignore the music. He had figured it might have been Levi or Hanji who would be cursed with a noisy neighbor. Why him? Did he offend someone in any way?

He tossed a look over his shoulder in the direction of the wall where the music was coming from. With a shrug, he turned over again and closed his eyes.

He'll submit a noise complaint later.

* * *

He had forgotten about that noise complaint the next day. In fact, it had completely slipped his mind until he was going through his mail. The sound was not intrusive, but it was noticeable. With a grimace, Mike directed his gaze in the direction of the noise.

It wasn't...too disturbing. It was just noise. Sweet, comforting, enthralling noise. Mike found himself pushing it off as background noise and went back to observing his mail.

* * *

It was 4:00, which meant that his neighbor would be playing their music again.

Mike found that he did not mind. Not too much. With a lazy flick of the newspaper he was re-reading, Mike glanced at the clock and noted the time. With a disinterested grunt, he went back to reading the newspaper while listening to the melody on the other side of the wall.

He wondered if his neighbor would take requests.

* * *

4:00. Right on time.

The melody was soft and comforting. Fading away only to rise back up with a steady beat, the music was freely performed.

He went still, as if afraid he might scare away the melodious song. As if approaching a skittish critter, he approached the wall. He could hear the song better, and with a small smile, he leaned up against the wall and slid down to the floor. Gazing up at the ceiling, he rested his head up against the wall and closed his eyes.

* * *

He had positioned his couch so that it was right up against the wall instead of across the room. He told himself it was because the original arrangement had been awkward. This time, the room flowed nicely and allowed for more space in his small living room.

He told himself it had nothing to do with the music.

And if his new arrangement allowed him to hear the music a bit more clearly, well, then that was just an added bonus.

* * *

He looked up with a small frown as the guitar's lyrics came to an abrupt stop. After another long moment of silence, he strained his hearing, but could not detect any other sound. He frowned as he glanced at the clock.

4:15.

Huh. He shrugged and dismissed his initial worry. So what if his neighbor decided to play for only fifteen minutes? Maybe they would come back.

He tried not to feel so disheartened with the loss of the music.

* * *

It was past 4:10, and not a single strum of a guitar could be heard.

He fiddled with the TV remote, keeping the volume on low in case he may miss another soothing melody.

But no melody came.

* * *

He tried not to worry. But it was three days, and he still had not heard any music.

He had paced around and tried to busy himself with the unnecessary things in his apartment.

He kept glancing at the wall where his blue fabric couch stood out against the dismal grey coloring.

As it had become all too frequent in the last three days, there was no sound.

Levi always accused him of using his nose instead of his brain. Erwin would have said he should stop and think on what his next course of action should be. Hanji would most likely be shoving him in the direction he was already walking in.

He was standing in front of the door of his neighbor and knocking before he even had a chance to stop and think.

For several long, agonizing, seconds, he tensely waited. Before he could consider taking a step back, he heard the sound of a chain lock sliding back. A soft cough could be heard before the door opened to reveal a tired woman. Her hazel eyes, red and swollen, rose to meet his. Pushing her unkempt, short blonde hair aside, she sighed. "Yes?"

Mike shifted on his feet awkwardly. Now that he was here, he did not know what else to do. What should he say?

"I just wanted to check on you," he said quickly. "It's been quiet."

The woman blinked her unfocused eyes. "Quiet?" she echoed. Some sort of realization seemed to dawn on her because she smiled. "Is it my music?"

Mike could only sheepishly nod and resist the urge to rub the back of his neck.

The woman's smile slipped away into a small grin. "I haven't been feeling too well and am only just recovering from a cold."

Mike nodded. "I...I see." He cleared his throat. "Well, get better soon." With that, he hurried away and into the safety of his apartment.

* * *

The sudden thought that occurred to him was so sudden and stupid that he wanted to smack himself for not thinking of it earlier.

In fact, he was currently standing outside of the woman's apartment door the very next day with a pot of chicken soup in his hands (canned soup, of course. He had been in too much of a frantic hurry to put together a decent pot of home-made soup himself).

This time, he hesitated when he had to knock on the door (and it was not just because he needed both hands to hold the pot).

This time, the door quickly opened, and Mike blinked in surprise when he saw the once sick woman standing before him. Her short hair was now neatly brushed, accenting her sharp features with the slight curl in her blonde locks. Her hazel eyes were somewhat bright and not as red as yesterday. The simple white t-shirt she wore seemed slightly big for her small frame, but she looked just as strong carrying her guitar case.

She blinked in surprise when she noticed him. "Oh."

He held the pot out in front of him. "I brought soup. For your cold."

She smiled. "Thanks." Setting her guitar down in the halls of her home, she took the pot from him. Nodding indoors, she continued to smile. "Please come in."

Mike slowly followed her indoors and tried to make his large frame less intrusive than it already was. With hunched shoulders, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He watched as the woman placed the large pot down on her clean countertop. He inwardly smiled as he noticed how neat her small living space was, and he thought that Levi might be pleased with her tidiness.

He saw a small keyboard set up nicely in a corner of her living space. "You play music," he said. It was not a question, but he found himself still looking for a confirmation.

The woman blinked. "Oh, yes I do." The small grin disappeared from her face. "Was I being too loud?"

He shook his head. "No. It's nice." If anything, it was not loud enough. But he did not want to say that. He hesitated. "Do you sing?"

To his surprise, she laughed. "Oh no. You don't want to hear me sing." Her eyes grew soft. "My guitar does the singing for me."

Mike found himself smiling. "It sounds beautiful."

The woman smiled at him and extended her arm. "I'm Nanaba."

He shook her hand. "Mike."

* * *

At 4:00, Mike found himself lying down on his couch with his hands folded on his chest. He closed his eyes in content as the soft music of the guitar filtered in through the walls.

He loved his neighbors.

* * *

**A/N: Don't mind me. Just a little something I've been working on. **


End file.
